“Sometimes I did,” Cash says. “But with Britta… What are women expecting in that department?”
Wilder takes a deep breath. “I think it’s up to you. If you feel comfortable shaving it all off or just trimming it, or even letting it grow out, you do you.”
I cannot believe this is the stuff boys talk about.
“I don’t want to make a fool out of myself in front of Britta,” Cash continues.
And it suddenly hits me.
Cash never worried like this with me.
Not about condoms. Not about being good enough. Not about making a fool of himself.
I just…
How could I let someone treat me like that? And for so long?
“What would you do?” Cash asks Wilder.
There’s a long pause before he finally answers.
“I wouldn’t assume my cross-country pen pal is down for sex until I met her in person,” he answers.
“And the bush?” Cash presses.
“I’d trim it,” Wilder counsels. “Don’t shave it all off. But, you know, maintain appearances.”
“What am I trying to maintain?” Cash pushes.
“Just shave it off,” I snap at Cash. “If it’s such a big deal, shave it all off.”
Cash clears his throat. “Is that what men typically have done at Loretta’s?”
“Some do,” I answer. Then, just to be cruel, I add, “And most of them get their buttholes waxed, too. You should definitely shave that. Wouldn’t want Britta to think you don’t take care of yourself.”
“Someone is feisty today,” Cash mumbles under his breath.
I should say something back. Something mean and hurtful.
But Wilder’s fingers find my shoulder and squeezes lightly. As he does, a message pops up on my phone from him.
He’s just nervous. Don’t take it personally.
Don’t take it personally that he never cared if his bush was whacked for me? Yeah, okay.
Don’t take it personally that he chose backpacking through Europe instead of telling me the truth? That his mom got my dad fired. That we almost lost everything.
Anger flares in my chest.
But right now, I can’t tell if it’s from Wilder’s remark that I let him off the hook too easy—or if it’s from Cash treating me like shit most of our relationship.
I type back a reply.
I wasn’t letting you off the hook because I’m a pushover. I was trying not to ruin this trip because I don’t know how much longer we’ll last like this.
He reads the message, and I hear a sharp inhale from the backseat.
But I don’t look over my shoulder.
